


I Want You to Want Me

by agoddamnsupernova



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 10 Things I Hate About You AU, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, There's some smut, but the rating is more for some of the themes we'll be talking about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-07-03 20:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoddamnsupernova/pseuds/agoddamnsupernova
Summary: After their father's death, Clarke and Octavia's lives will never be the same. Their mother's attempt at protecting them just leads to Octavia resenting Clarke. So, when Clarke seems to be too stubborn to reason with, Octavia may have to take things into her own hands.





	1. We Will Never Be Younger

**Author's Note:**

> I've been planning this au for months and I finally got around to typing this chapter up. There's some angst in the beginning so if you're not into that, you can very well skip this chapter and the next one will start much like the movie did. You won't be missing anything I won't bring up again later. 
> 
> I know I have a lot of projects going on right now, but having the ability to switch between them, keeps me more motivated to write. So, that being said, I hope you enjoy.

“Daddy look!” Clarke shouts as she teeters around, Octavia clinging to her back. “I can still carry Octavia!”

“That you can, Sunflower,” Jake grins, reaching for the digital camera. “Big smiles so we can show mom!”

Clarke stops in her tracks and her and Octavia turn toward the camera, matching grins on their faces as their dad snaps the picture. “Did you get a good one?” Clarke calls, resuming her route around the grass.

“I did,” he chuckles, leaning against the bench with a smile. “You guys about ready to leave? We have to meet your mom and Bell at the airport in a few hours and we need to be ready.”

“Yes!” Octavia shouts, throwing her arms up, causing her and her sister to fall back onto the grass giggling.

“You’re so clumsy, O,” Clarke grins, rolling off the younger girl. “Bellamy is going to think I’m beating you up.”

“No he won’t, he knows you’re the good sister,” Octavia teases, letting the blonde help her up.

“You’re both the good sister,” Jake says, scooping the girls up, one in each arm to hug them tightly. “My beautiful girls.”

Clarke smiles and snuggles into her father while a hand searches for Octavia’s, lacing their fingers together. They may not be blood, but there was no denying that they were sisters.

“Let’s go get the house ready for your brother’s party,” Jake says, tickling both girls. At ages twelve and ten, the girls knew that a party meant sweets and sweets meant staying up late and that was a combination they couldn’t say no to.

Once they’re strapped into the back seat, they start the short drive back home, the girls playing a game of I spy. “I spy with my little eye, something that is red,” Clarke says, her eyes watching the red truck coming down the street.

“Is it the red light?” Octavia asks, pointing to the left side of the intersection, where the light had changed from green to red as their father pulled forward.

Clarke doesn’t get a chance to respond before her object of choice is slamming into the side of the car. Her head snaps to the side hard, her eyes on a frightened Octavia. She reaches for the younger girl’s hand even as the car starts to tilt to the right.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Clarke chants, her body is already sore and her head throbs, but she clutches Octavia’s hand tightly through it all.

The screech of metal on metal is the worst, grating on her eardrums while the car finishes its tumble onto its roof, their seatbelts keeping them strapped to the seat.

“Daddy!” Octavia shouts, ripping her hand from Clarke’s to scrabble at the buckle. “Daddy, I can't get down!”

Octavia’s sobs spur Clarke into action, ignoring the way her small body cries out for rest as she manages to unhook her belt. She lets out a pained gasp as she hits the roof, stray glass cutting into her arms and legs.

“Hold still ‘Tavia,” Clarke hisses, shoving the brunette's hands away from the buckle. After a few moments of frustrated pressing, it finally comes undone.

Octavia drops from the seat and onto Clarke, shoving the blonde into the glass once more. She sucks in a breath, steeling herself against the pain as she pushes O toward the busted window. “Get out, I’ll help dad.”

Octavia tries to argue but Clarke shuts her down, all but shoving the girl out the window. “Stay in the grass!” She shouts before she’s maneuvering her way toward the front seat.

She crouches under the center console and reaches out to tap her dad’s face, hot tears already forming at the corners of her eyes. “Daddy...wake up,” she says softly, tapping a little harder.

“Come on, we have to get out of here, we have to get help!” She shouts this time, shoving his shoulder. His body moves limply, his head lolling to one side.

His neck is set at an odd angle, the sight making Clarke’s stomach turn. “No...” she sobs out, making herself reach to feel for a pulse.

His skin is still warm, cheeks still flushed but the normal fluttering of a pulse of gone from his veins. Clarke finds herself dry heaving, crouched in the glass, tears streaming down her face, the taste of bile in the back of her throat. She forces herself to move then, to abandon her father in the wreckage as she fights her way through the glass once more, collapsing on the pavement unable to catch her breath.

Strangers are on her then, men dressed in white shirts and black pants. They lift her onto a stretcher, their questions falling on deaf ears as her eyes scan the carnage for her sister.

She finds her across the way, sat with another paramedic, getting checked out. “My sister,” she croaks, pointing a finger at Octavia, trying to ignore the stench of her own blood.

“We’ll get her in here with you, but you need to keep still, we don’t know how bad you’re hurt,” the man replies and then they’re placing an oxygen mask over her face and Clarke forgets to breathe for a moment.

Everything kicks into high gear, her heart throbbing hard in her chest as her lungs ache for air. “Her blood pressure is rising!” Someone calls and before she can even try to say anything, to do anything, there’s a small pinch in her arm and the world starts to grow fuzzy around the edges.

* * *

 

“Jake was an amazing husband, father, and friend. He was an extraordinary member of the community, offering his services to anyone who needed them. He will be dearly missed and never forgotten,” a man says, standing at a podium while everyone is sat in folding chairs.

Clarke is sat between her brother and mother, her body aches with every breath she takes. She’s still recovering from the crash and though her wounds will heal, she’s unsure whether the rest of her will.

Clarke never pictured her father wanting a viewing, having practical strangers come to see his seemingly sleeping form laid in a casket. And yet, here they were, standing next to her father, while people came and paid their respects.

What a stupid concept, standing over someone’s body for a moment, sadness in their eyes that quickly turns to pity once they’re directed toward the family. How is that respect for anyone? It certainly didn’t seem like they were doing much for anyone.

But then Clarke remembers that funerals aren’t for the dead, but for the living. A way to say goodbye without the pain of the actual goodbye. None of these people had to see her father hung limply from his seatbelt, had to feel the heartache of realizing he didn’t have a pulse. None of them understood.

Octavia’s hand finds hers about halfway through the burial and it takes Clarke all she has not to yank her hand away. She knows it’s not O’s fault, that lies with the drunk who decided to drive, but it makes Clarke ache for her father all the more, having Octavia cling to her.

All she could think of were their hands clasped together while their world fell apart and it made her chest hurt more than her fractured ribs ever could.

Once Jake is buried and the crowd breaks up for the dinner afterward and Clarke drops Octavia’s hand, squares her shoulders and seemingly takes on the weight of the world as she leads her mother to the car.

* * *

**_Six Years Later_ **

“I don’t understand why she can’t just act like a normal human being,” Octavia says into the phone, her fingers toying with the pendant hanging from her neck. “She doesn’t go out except for her stupid art stuff and everyone at school is like, terrified of her.”

 _“O, you know how hard it’s been on her since dad died,”_ Bellamy reasons from the other side of the line, making Octavia frown.

“It’s been six years, Bell,” Octavia sighs, clutching the necklace a little tighter. “I miss dad too, but I’m not a raging bitch about it.”

“ _It’s_ _different for her. She had to grow up a lot after that, I was at school, you were young and mom was working all the time, she had to go from a kid to a mini adult really quick,”_ Bell argues softly and Octavia can hear his shrug. _“Cut her some slack.”_

“I just don’t understand why she can’t go out to one party so that I can, too,” O whines, kicking her feet up onto the back of the couch. “All I want is to be able to hang out with my friends but mom won’t let me do anything unless Clarke goes.”

 _“Mom just wants to keep you safe,”_ Bellamy sighs and there’s a soft thud in the background. _“I gotta go, roomie is back with food, I love you.”_

“I love you,” Octavia hums before the line goes dead. She tosses her cellphone away with a soft groan, tilting her head up toward the ceiling. “I just want to be normal.”

* * *

 

Clarke sighs softly, resting her head against the door frame, guilt sat heavy in her chest. She never meant to smother Octavia, she just didn’t want O to ever feel the way she has in high school.

“Hey O, I’m going to go to the mall to look for new jeans, do you want to come?” She calls from the hall, not wanting her sister to know she’d been eavesdropping.

She can hear Octavia scramble off the couch and it makes her smile a little bit. “Fuck yeah, let’s go!” She yells as she comes around the corner, her eyes bright.

“Go get dressed, I’ll start the AC in the car while I wait,” Clarke replies as she grabs her keys off the hook.

She hates the way Octavia talks about her, as if Clarke hadn’t spent the last six years keeping their lives put together. Part of her understands and feels guilty for alienating her sister, but the other part, the one still left in shambles from their father’s death, that side of her just wants to keep Octavia safe and protected.

Even if it left Octavia hating her, Clarke was determined to keep her little sister from feeling the pain she has.

Clarke starts the car and kicks on the AC, leaning her head against the seat, the California heat already leaving a thin sheen of sweat across her forehead. “Come on, O, it’s hot as fuck, get out here.”

Another few minutes go by before Octavia emerges from the house, her pajamas traded out for a crop top and shorts, her hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Clarke never really understood the appeal of crop tops til Octavia made her buy one...she could admit she was wrong...once.

“Let’s go, princess,” Octavia teases as she buckled up, making Clarke roll her eyes. The nickname was something that floated around the school and Octavia was the only one who got away with calling her that.

“You’re an ass,” Clarke chuckles as she pulls out of the drive, tossing the aux cord to Octavia. “Play Taylor Swift and I murder you,” was her only warning.

Octavia mocks her but doesn’t test the rule and ends up settling on a mix station where they’re both relatively happy with the selection. They even break out in song at one point.

 _“I keep on hoping we’ll eat cake by the ocean,”_ they sing together, grins on their faces as they crank the music up a little too loud.

It almost feels normal in that moment, like their lives had never changed, like Clarke had never had to build a wall around her heart. Octavia is singing her heart out, drumming to the beat on her thighs as she does, her eyes closed and her smile wide.

How long has it been since she and Octavia had really hung out? Her heart aches a little as she wonders what she’s been missing out on. She misses her sister, not that she would ever tell her that, it was easier to let Octavia resent her. It was easier if there was a bad guy. Clarke could handle that title if it meant Octavia was safe.

“So, where are we getting your stuff at?” O asks as they pull into the mall’s over crowded parking lot, cruising for a parking spot. “Cause I want to stop and get a new belly ring.”

Clarke has to fight the urge to roll her eyes and just nods a little. “I mean I was going to go to hot topic for my jeans...their ultra skinny jeans are just...”

“Super fucking nice?” Octavia finishes with a smile, her blue eyes twinkling. “Well damn, sis, didn’t peg you for someone who would stoop to hot topic for clothes.”

“Fuck you,” Clarke chuckles, finally finding a parking spot that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere. “I just like how soft they are.”

“Uh huh, you’re just not as high and mighty as you think you are,” Octavia hums, grabbing her purse before getting out of the car.

Clarke sighs softly, sticking the sun shield up before following after her, locking the car with a beep. “You’re a dick.”

“I wonder where I learned that from,” Octavia retorts, raising a brow at her sister. “I mean, do you know what people at school call you?”

“Other than princess?” Clarke asks, sarcasm dripping from her words. She’d make Finn pay for starting that stupid nickname.

“They call you the shrew,” O snorts, shaking her head as they push open the doors, sighing as they enter the air conditioning. “The fucking shrew.”

“Wow, look at the idiots coming up with a pretty clever dig,” Clarke replies, rolling her eyes then, her feet already carrying her toward the escalators. “Didn’t think any of them knew enough about Shakespeare to come up with that.”

“You’re taking pride in this?” Octavia scoffs, leaning against the railing as they move toward the lower level. “Seriously?”

“If they want to label me, let them, doesn’t phase me,” Clarke shrugs, pulling her phone out with a furrowed brow.

Monty had sent her Snapchat, it was a picture of her outfit from behind. She whips her head around to find her best friend standing a few stairs behind them, waving his fingers. “Hey, numbnuts.”

“Rude,” Monty gasps, a hand on his chest. “You wound me, Clarke.”

“Hey, Monty,” Octavia hums, her nose buried in her phone as soon as they get off the escalator. “I’m going to look at piercings, I’ll meet you at Dairy Queen?”

“Yeah, okay, be safe,” Clarke says, but Octavia is already walking away, waving a hand behind her. “Brat.”

“She’s a kid, let her have her fun,” Monty says, linking their arms together. “Besides, I have gossip.”

“Don’t you always?” She asks, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walk toward the store. “Who’s it about?”

“Apparently we’re getting a new student,” he grins, knocking their hips together. “Do you think they’ll be a hot guy?”

“Maybe,” Clarke hums, pulling him into hot topic with her. “But knowing your luck he’ll be straight.”

“Don’t you throw that bad juju at me!”

* * *

 

Octavia sits with her chin in her hands watching Clarke at the counter. It’d been a nice day, being able to be out without having to sneak around. She wonders if Clarke had overheard her on the phone earlier. She almost feels bad, but then she remembers that Clarke had put this space between them and the bridge between it was rickety.

“One oreo blizzard, extra Oreo pieces,” Clarke smiles, setting the cup down in front of her with a flourish.

“Thanks,” O says softly, pulling the spoon from the dessert. “Like for today as a whole.”

“Everyone needs a day out,” Clarke hums before spooning her own ice cream into her mouth. “I’m just sorry I didn’t ask sooner...I know how hard it is on you, mom’s rule and all.”

“So, why don’t we go out more?” Octavia asks softly, trying not to turn it into an argument. She just wanted to know what her sister never went out anymore.

“I guess it just lost its appeal,” Clarke shrugs, running a hand through her hair. O was always jealous of the pink tips the older girl had.

“Do you think we could do it more?” She sighs, biting her lip as she leans back in her chair. “I hate being stuck in the house.”

Clarke is quiet for a moment, stirring her ice cream while Octavia stares. “I guess...I can try to be more social, for you.”

Octavia grins then, pumping her fists into the air with a little victory yell. “Fuck yeah, thank you so much, Clarke!”

O surprises herself a bit when she gets up to hug her sister and the blonde surprises her even more by returning the hug full force. It’s almost tight enough to make them feel close for the first time in six years, but then Clarke is pulling away to eat her ice cream and O is left feeling a little empty.

She sits back down and starts to eat her own dessert, trying to think about anything but the chasm that seemed to sit between them.

“Fuck, tomorrow is Monday,” Octavia says after a moment, thudding her head on the table. “I hate school.”

“Why? Don’t all the boys fawn over you?” Clarke teases, scraping the last of her ice cream from the cup.

“Maybe, but I have a Spanish test and I am _not_ going to do well,” she sighs, letting her cheek rest against the table.

“There are these things called tutors,” Clarke hums, leaning across the table to poke O between the eyes.

“That requires effort,” she whines, crossing her eyes to try and see Clarke’s finger.

“That’s just life, kid.”


	2. A New Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really wanted to thank everyone for their kind thoughts and well wishes when I posted my hiatus, I really thought that I would be gone longer, but writing really helps me feel better. So I've taken down the hiatus chapter (but I saved the comments because you are all so sweet). I know this could be longer and probably have more information in it, but I want to save some stuff for next chapter which will feature Clarke and Lexa. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Come on Octavia, we’re going to be late!” Clarke calls from the bottom of the stairs, only making O roll her eyes. 

“We do this every morning Clarke, we’re never late!” She yells back, adding the finishing touches to her makeup before grabbing her bag. “See, done,” she hums, presenting herself at the top of the steps. 

“You’re annoying, come on,” Clarke snorts, turning toward the door. “Have a good shift, mom!” She shouts down the hall, receiving a muffled thanks from their mother before they’re heading out the door. 

“Did you hear about the new student?” Octavia asks as Clarke unlocks the car, trying to have a normal conversation with her sister for once. 

“I did, Monty told me about it yesterday,” Clarke replies, buckling herself in. “There’s a rumor going around that they’re from New Mexico.”

“Ooh, the land of enchantment,” Octavia chuckles, propping her feet up on the dash. “How exciting, going from a desert to an oasis.” 

“I don’t know that you could call Cali an oasis, but I’m sure it’s at least a small step up,” Clarke chuckles, offering her the aux cord. 

“I know, no Taylor Swift,” Octavia says before Clarke can even mention it. “You seemed to like that station I found on Spotify yesterday.” 

“I did, it plays a nice mix,” Clarke hums, flipping on her turn signal. “Should queue up Cake by the Ocean.” 

Octavia smiles and does just that, leaning back against her seat. It was nice to feel normal around Clarke. Small moments where they got along were few and far between but she took what she could get. “I missed this,” she says softly, biting her lip. 

“I did too,” Clarke hums, tapping her fingers against the wheel. “What are you gonna do when I go off to college?” 

“Probably die,” O chuckles, propping her feet up on the dash. “Mom will probably keep me under lock and key.” 

“I’ll see if I can chill her out a bit before then,” Clarke replies, turning her head to flash O a smile. “Besides, she’ll be too freaked out by me wanting an east coast school to really do anything to you.” 

“East coast, huh?” Octavia asks as she scrolls through her Instagram feed. “Anywhere close to Bell?” 

“Sort of, Sarah Lawrence is about three hours away from Harvard, why?” Her sister responds as they hit a red light, both turning their head toward the loud music playing next to them. “Is that Woods?” 

“I think so,” Octavia replies as she tilts her head at the motorcycle next to them, blaring some kind of rock. “I heard she sold half her liver on the black market.” 

“Please,” Clarke rolls her eyes, pulling away from the light, trying to ignore the motorcycle currently keeping speed with her car. “You shouldn’t listen to all of that gossip.” 

“I’ll do whatever I please,” Octavia grins, switching songs after a moment. “Anyway, I asked about your school because it’d be nice to visit both of my siblings at the same time, wouldn’t it?” 

“Get the gang back together,” Clarke chuckles, laying on her horn when the cyclist pulls in front of her. “Asshole!” 

“I wonder if it’s because of only having half a liver that she’s so crabby,” Octavia comments, double tapping a picture of Finn Collins before she’s turning her attention back to Clarke. “What do you think?” 

“First of all, your liver regenerates so even if she did something with half of it, it would grow back and has nothing to do with behavior,” the blonde starts, shaking her head. “And second, I think that Lexa Woods is just an overall asshole, there doesn’t need to be a reason.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

 

* * *

California was too much. Too much smog, too much humidity and too many spoiled brats running around with daddy’s credit card. And yet Arkadia is where her dad’s work decided to take them and Raven didn’t have the option to stay in their home.

No, she had been dragged across several state lines only to end up in a shitty, Hollywood wannabe town with her dad, her step mom and her cat Terabyte. It was like a fucking movie cliche. 

“Raven, Mr. Kane is ready for you now,” the secretary says softly, snapping her attention back to reality. 

“Thank you,” Raven replies as she stands slowly, reaching down to adjust a strap on her knee brace before she makes her way into the office toward the back. 

The room is fairly large, a man with dark hair and a salt and pepper beard sits behind the desk, his fingers flying across his laptop keyboard. “Miss. Reyes, how are you this fine afternoon?” He asks, barely glancing up from his project. 

“Uh, I’m okay, I guess,” Raven hums, plopping herself down in a chair across from the man. “A little disappointed that there aren’t more accommodations for disabled people, but, you know, a lot of places don’t really seem that aware of how many of their students have trouble getting around.” 

That makes Mr. Kane pause his work, his dark eyes trained on her serious features. “I assure you that our students are our number one priority, though I will not lie, it takes time to get more accessibility, some people on the school board are not as learning forward as others.” 

Raven nods, tucking her arms behind her head as she leans back in her chair. “So, what you’re saying is, it sucks to be us?” She asks, brows raised at the counselor. 

“I suppose that is a very too the point way to say it,” Kane shrugs his shoulders, pressing a button on his laptop that sets the copy machine across the room to shudder to life. “But, I am working hard to get more accommodations put into action, all I ask for is patience.” 

“I feel like asking disabled people to be patient is a really stupid request, considering a very large portion of the disabled have been fighting for basic rights for quite a long time,” Raven says, unable to stop herself from pushing buttons. 

“Raven, I am but a counselor, I can only do so much, but I assure you that I am doing everything I can for the students here,” he replies, a hand waving toward the copier. “I have printed out a map for you with all of the elevators marked, Ms. Langford will give you a key on your way out. I also have your schedule.” 

“How exciting,” Raven snorts, getting up to grab the papers from the machine, flipping to her class list. “It’s been a real slice, can I actually start my day now, or would you like to argue that the school food isn’t garbage while we’re at it?” 

Kane sighs softly, rubbing a hand against his stubbled jaw. “Miss. Reyes, please have a wonderful first day and if there is anything I can do to make your transition into Arkadia High easier, please let me know.” 

Raven opens her mouth to respond, only to jump when what appears to be a peanut butter sandwich collides with Kane’s window, smearing the glass. “I assure you that our high school has the same idiotic assholes as your last one.” 

Raven is startled by the man’s frankness, but it makes her smile and nod. “Have a nice day, sir,” she hums on her way out. “He’s a real livewire, isn’t he?” She asks Ms. Langford with a smile. 

The woman chuckles softly, rummaging through her desk until she produces a key for her. “He means well,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Also, your student guide is here for you,” she points to a lanky boy sitting in one of the chairs, his legs sprawled out in front of him. 

“Mr. Jordan, please get off of your phone and help Miss. Reyes find her homeroom,” Ms. Langford says sternly, making the boy all but launch himself into standing. 

“Yes ma’am,” he salutes with a grin and Raven thinks she’ll come to like him. “Miss. Reyes, I will be your escort today, anything you happen to need, just ask,” he mocks, bowing in front of her. 

“You’re too kind,” Raven snorts, allowing him to lead her out into the hall. “You’re a real jackass, aren’t you?”

“Someone’s got to bring the fun to this place and it sure as hell isn’t going to come from the rich kids,” Jasper grins, walking backward down the hall so they can look at each other properly. “I’m going to make sure that your time here at Arkadia High is one you won’t forget.” 

“I doubt I could forget this shit show anyway,” she shakes her head, pulling out the elevator key when they reach the one at the end of the hall. “I’m Raven by the way.” 

“Jasper,” he replies, leaning against one of the reflective walls. “So, why did you end up transferring here in the middle of your senior year? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Some shit between my parents went down and so when my dad’s work offered him a higher paying job here, he took it and dragged me right along with him,” Raven sighs, the motion of the elevator stopping making her stomach clench. 

“Where in New Mexico are you from?” Jasper asks as they head out into the now crowded courtyard. “I have an aunt that lives in Santa Fe.” 

Raven smiles at that, of course, people around here would know where she moved from. “I bounced back and forth between Albuquerque and Taos. Made for a weird education,” she snorts, ignoring the way her knee twinges every time someone knocks into her. 

“That’s really cool,” Jasper hums, adjusting his backpack straps. “Now, I’m going to give you some valuable information that is key to your survival here,” he chuckles, nodding toward a group of people. 

“Over there you have the Starbucks fanatics, to the left of them are the white girls running their dad’s credit card bill up, some of them overlap,” he hums, before directing her attention to a group of people in business attire. “The overachievers who really don’t have to try as hard as they are to get into college.”

“Oh, look, the potheads,” Raven coughs out when they pass through a foul-smelling cloud of smoke. “The cliches just keep coming,” she says, letting out a grunt when someone’s shoulder collides with hers. 

She turns to find two dark haired girls walking away from her, neither seeming to care that the shorter one had run into someone. “Speaking of cliches,” Jasper snorts as Raven continues to watch the girls.

“Who is the shorter one,” Raven finds herself asking after said girl turns back to look at her and Raven can feel herself getting lost in those deep blue irises, even from afar. 

“One Octavia Blake,” Jasper hums, all but dragging Raven away. “She’s the high school princess.” 

“She’s fucking beautiful,” Raven breathes out, shaking her head as they continue their walk. “What grade is she in?” 

“She’s a sophomore and I wouldn’t waste your breath, her family has a weird rule where she can’t date unless her sister does,” Jasper informs her, but it does nothing to squash Raven’s hope. 

“Yeah, but I’m a girl, would her family even know if we went out on a date?” Raven chuckles, putting her hands behind her head. 

“Yeah, she’s an out and proud bisexual, I’m pretty sure her mom would catch on after like three dates,” Jasper replies before smirking. “If you could even score the first date.” 

“You’re rude,” Raven huffs, smacking his shoulder. “I am a master when it comes to flirting.” 

“I’m sure,” he rolls his eyes, stopping at a door. “Here’s your first class, try not to have too much fun. I’ll catch you at lunchtime.” 

Raven smiles and nods, mock punching Jasper in the shoulder. “Thanks a lot, man.” 

“Don’t thank me too much, your first class is with your little crush’s sister,” Jasper shrugs, running a hand through his mop of hair. “Do you best not to anger the shrew.” 

And with that he’s jogging off down the hall, leaving Raven to ponder just what he meant.    
  



	3. Kangaroo and The Shrew

“Alexandria Woods, I see you’re making our visits a weekly ritual,” Mr. Kane hums as he leads her into the office, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. “Should just get your name put on that, shouldn’t we?” 

“Only so we can have these moments together. Shall I get the lights?” Lexa smirks, dropping her bag next to the chair before plopping into it. “I could carve my name into one of the legs, would you like that?” 

“Oh, you’re clever kangaroo girl,” Kane snorts as he flips through some papers on his desk. “Says here you exposed yourself in the cafeteria.” 

Lexa rolls her eyes as she picks at a hole in her jeans. “I was messing around with one of my friends, I had a tank top under my shirt.” 

Kane looks up from the paper, brows raised before he shakes his head. “It appears you need to rethink who you hang out with, doesn’t seem like they’re doing you any favors.” 

“Who I hang out with is my business. Whoever reported me for exposing myself is a dumbshit,” Lexa huffs, sitting forward in her seat. “Clearly someone needs to get their eyes looked at. My tank top was white and last time I checked, I’m quite tan.” 

Kane is silent for a moment before he clicks his tongue, nodding toward the door. “Next time, just keep your shirt down, okay? Now get back to class.” 

Lexa opens her mouth to argue some more but thinks better of it. “Have a nice day, sir,” she mutters before grabbing her things, making a hasty exit. “Have a good day, Ms. Langford,” she smiles, offering a small wave to the secretary after collecting her late note. 

Once she’s clear of the office, she takes her time down hall, enjoying the rare silence the empty halls had to offer. Lexa couldn’t wait to be rid of Arkadia High, the institution just a pitstop on her road to the future. She hates that she needs this on her transcript to get into a decent school, hates that she has to work so hard for something that seems so meaningless. 

By the time she reaches her first class of the morning, she’s already annoyed with the idea of learning for the day but decides to pop her head in when she hears a few familiar voices arguing. 

“What did I miss?” She asks as she steps in the door, hands wrapping around the strap of her bag. She’s met by a sea of eyes, but only one pair stands out, bright blue and full of spite. Clarke Griffin, the princess of Arkadia. 

“The oppressive patriarchal values that dictate our education,” the blonde replies and though she turns her head halfway through the answer, Lexa can just tell she had rolled her eyes during it. 

“Good,” Lexa chuckles before she’s turning on her heel to head back out the door, ignoring Mr. Pike yelling after her. She had much better things to be doing than listening to a room full of idiots talk about Literature.

* * *

 

“Mr. Pike, is there any way we can get Clarke to take her Midol before class?” Finn asks, just the sound of his voice was enough to annoy the blonde, but right now she was ready to slap him. 

“Finn, one of these days, you’re going to get bitch slapped and I’m not going to do a damned thing about it,” the teacher replies, looking smug. “And Clarke, I would like to thank you for your unique perspective. It must have been hard overcoming all those years of upper middle class, suburban oppression.” 

“But next time you go storming the PTA, crusading for better lunch meat or whatever you hipsters do nowadays, why don’t you ask them why they can’t buy a book or two written by a black man?” He huffs out, ignoring some cheers from a few stoners in the back. 

“Anything else?” Clarke scoffs, sitting back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Go to the office, you’re pissing me off,” Mr. Pike snaps, pointing at the door. 

“What? Mr. Pike, this is ridiculous,” she argues, but he just waves a hand at her and tells her to leave once more. 

She glares for a moment before reaching down to grab her bag, making sure it smacks Finn when she pulls it over her shoulder. She couldn’t believe she was being sent to the office because she didn’t want to learn about another misogynistic writer like Hemingway. 

Clarke sighs softly as she pulls out her phone, pulling up her email for the millionth time since she had sent in her application to Sarah Lawrence. She knew it was stupid, hoping someone might send her news, but she couldn’t help it. 

She clicks out of the app when it finishes refreshing, tucking it back into her pocket before looking up toward the hallway once more. Only, she finds herself face first in someone’s ridiculous leather jacket, the force of their impact causing them both to stumble. 

“Watch where you-” “-what the fuck?” They say at the same time before Clarke ends up on top of the other person. 

“You know, if you wanted to pin me down, you could have asked,” an all too familiar voice sounds. She had fallen on top of resident ‘bad girl’ Lexa Woods. Of course, she had. 

“You’re disgusting,” Clarke huffs, shoving herself up and off the floor. “Who just stands in the middle of the hallway?” 

“Who doesn’t look where they’re going?” Lexa retorts in that stupid fucking Australian accent that Clarke is sure is fake. “You ran into me.” 

“Whatever,” Clarke snaps, running a hand through her hair. “Asshole,” she tacks on before she’s heading down the hall once more. 

“Crazy bitch,” she can hear Lexa say under her breath but chooses to ignore it. She couldn’t risk another detention because of some smug dick in a leather jacket. 

Clarke is surprisingly calm by the time she reaches the office, rolling her eyes when she hears Mr. Kane asking for another word for secretive.“Cryptic,” she offers up as she walks into his room, brows raised. 

Kane and his stupid crime novel would be the death of her. “Ah, Clarke, I heard you were terrorizing Mr. Pike’s class, again.” 

“Expressing an opinion is not a terrorist act,” the blonde replies as she sits down, crossing her legs at the ankle. 

“The same way you expressed your opinion to John Murphy?” Kane snorts, closing his laptop to look at her. “By the way, his testicle retrieval operation went quite well. In case you’re interested.” 

“I still maintain that he kicked himself in the balls,” Clarke smirks, leaning back in her chair. Murphy deserved what he got after what he had said to her in the quad. 

“The point is, Clarke,” Kane sighs, rubbing his temples. “People perceive you as somewhat...”

“Tempestuous-” 

“-heinous bitch is the term used most often,” he supplies, shaking his head and it makes Clarke feel oddly proud of herself. “You might want to work on that. Thank you.” 

Clarke rolls her eyes, leaning forward to grab her bag. “As always, thank you for the wonderful guidance,” she hums, turning on her heel to head out the door. “Have fun with Leo’s surreptitious ways.” 


End file.
